Metal and Lace
by Tigryphon
Summary: No matter what the boys said about him being boring, stuffy, robotic, he knew they were wrong. A tale of Charles' unusual coping mechanism, rated M for slashy goodness.
1. The Beginning

Home alone. Again. His parents were both out on business trips, and he was left behind because of school. It was quiet, and he had already read every book in their small collection, mostly on law practices and such, gone over his homework several times, and even cleaned the house. Now, there was nothing but silence and his own thoughts, and so he decided to roam about the house and snoop. It was a bad habit, he knew, but it was either that or be bored. After going through his father's things, he moved to his mother's. Her outfits were all pretty much the same; Suits in muted, pastel colors. But when he pulled open her top left drawer and saw those vibrant reds and blues, neon pinks and shimmering blacks, his jaws dropped. He had never thought of his mother could be so... adventurous. He pulled out a particularly lovely pair of black silk panties with lacy edges and a small, dark red bow on the front. He bit his lip, an urge managing to overcome his better judgment. He stripped off his clothes and slipped on the skimpy undergarment. He looked at himself in the full body mirror of his parents' closet. He looked like a nerdy , and he couldn't help but laugh at himself. He didn't bother getting dressed, and continued his rummaging. He managed to find a pair of black stockings and a lace garter belt, and slipped them on as well. He even tried heels, but didn't find them very comfortable. The rest of it was rather nice, though, and when he finally got dressed again he left them on. He had always felt like just another cog in the machine, another cookie-cutter student in his uptight magnet school, but even in his school uniform, he felt... comforted. He loved knowing that under his drab clothing was something shocking, and as the clock ticked on towards seven thirty, he figured it wouldn't hurt to go to school with the sleek little secret still on.

It was his best day yet. The taunting jocks became just a buzz in the background, the monotony of the day broken by the cool feel of silk every time he shifted in his seat. His heart raced in his chest at every glance, like they all knew, and it made him feel so exhilarated. He even chatted up one of the cheerleaders. It was definitely the best day of his high school life.


	2. Metal and Lace

Charles loved his suits. He thought they made him look distinguished, more respectable somehow, and he really did enjoy getting to dress up. Everyone knew that. What they didn't know was what he wore _under_his suits. Sleek black silk panties that his absolutely nothing,, fishnet stockings and black lace garter belts. It was a sort of coping mechanism, his secret cross-dressing. No matter what the boys said about him being boring, stuffy, robotic, he knew they were wrong. They couldn't see the shiny, tight fabric beneath his dull suit. But what if one of them did?

It was around seven thirty, and Charles was at a loss as to what he wanted to wear. His suit was a no-brainer, he pretty much wore the same thing every day, but under his suit was a different story. In a drawer under his bed was his dirty little secret; A collection of expensive, skimpy bits of cloth that he used to make his day just a bit more standable. He thumbed through the articles of clothing. Black again? Blue, maybe? No, red. He was in the mood for red today. Besides, it matched his tie. Red silk panties with red fishnet stockings, and a black lace garter belt. He put his tie on and stood in front of the full body mirror in his closet, looking himself over. Yeah, this was going to work out great. It wasn't _pretty_, but it was_ hot, _and definitely naughty. He put his suit on and grabbed his briefcase, heading to his office.

Nathan was up horribly early. Well, not up. He hadn't slept. He was having one of his insomniac moments. He hadn't been able to sleep in at least three days, and it was starting to show in rehearsals. So now he was off to talk to Charles about it. As he got closer to the office, he stopped. When did he get to his office, anyway? Nathan realized he had no idea what time he got to work, he had never been up early enough to find out. So he stood there, thinking, hidden in the shadows of Mordhaus, when he saw Charles walk up to the door. He was about to step forward when Charles bent down and pulled his pant leg up, showing crimson fishnets. He straightened the stockings with care, then smoothed his pants out again and went inside. Nathan rubbed his eyes in disbelief. He had heard that not sleeping could make you hallucinate, that had to be it. He was hallucinating. He went in after a few minutes of convincing himself he hadn't just seen that, and Charles lifted his head in confusion.

"Nathan? What, ah, what are you doing up?" He put his pen down and placed his hands in his lap.

"I can't sleep. Like, I haven't slept in days. Fix it." Nathan sat down in a leather arm chair. He still couldn't get the image of Charles in blood red fishnets out of his head, and it was starting to bother him... and not in a bad way.

"You should have gone to the doctor, Nathan, he can give you a prescrip-"

"No! I don't wanna take pills, I wanna be able to wake up if... you know, something happens." Nathan pouted, crossing his arms. He had been more than a little paranoid since the last attack on Mordhaus, which had ended in Charles supposedly dying.

"Well then..." Charles leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers, elbows on his thighs. It made Nathan shiver. "I don't see what _I _can do to help, but... I'll try. Did you... have any ideas?" He arched one well-groomed brow, his glasses slid partway down the bridge of his nose.

"Uhh..." Sex. It was the only word that came up. Sex always helped him sleep, but he'd gotten bored with the same old groupies, all clamoring for his attention.

"Look, I have a lot of work to do, so if you could come back later, at around nine or so, we can discuss this then. So, ah, I'll see you. Then." He went back to his work, waiting for him to leave. He did, but only after a few moments of awkward staring. The front man spent all the rest of the day thinking, though not very hard, about what would happen if he actually suggested the solution he had come up with. _Hey, Charles! I can't sleep, so... wanna fuck?_ Yeah, _that_ would go over well. Cut when nine o'clock rolled around, he still couldn't think of anything walked into the huge office none-the-less, still with the image of Charles in those fishnets in his head. And now he was wondering what else he was hiding under that starched gray suit of his.

"Hey. I'm back." He shuffled in just as Charles was shutting down his laptop. Heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing south of his brain, Nathan sat back in the armchair, trying to distract himself by staring at one of Charles' many decorative lamps.

"It appears you are." Charles smiled, though only slightly, and pulled his chair back away from his desk. "Have you thought of anything?" He resisted the urge to chew on the end of his pen.

"Not really. One, but it's not a good one." Nathan wanted to stab himself in the face with a rusty spork for opening his big mouth.

"Go ahead, Nathan. I'll let you know if I can, ah. help you with it." Charles was starting to get nervous under the unusual scrutiny of those brilliant green eyes, and he shifted in his seat to feel the comforting silk and tight garter belt. It helped, but he still felt the heated energy on the room.

"Okay... um, well, sex usually helps." Nathan cleared his throat, trying not to look away from Charles' eyes. Those hazel eyes were down played by his glasses, so he'd never noticed how deep they looked until them.

"I, ah, I don't see how that could... could be a _problem_ for you, Nathan. Don't you usually..." Charles wasn't usually this stuttery, but the normally soothing silk was having a disastrous effect, especially under Nathan's scorching gaze.

"I haven't been in the mood... for groupies." Nathan shrugged his broad shoulders, finally looking down at the balled fists in his lap.

"Oh. So, ah..." Charles swallowed, finally giving in and putting the capped end of his pen between his teeth, letting it settle against his bottom lip. "So, what _are_ you in the mood for?" He hadn't meant for his voice to be so soft. When Nathan looked up to answer him, he nearly choked. Seeing Charles leaned back in his seat, legs crossed and with a pen in his mouth, it was almost too much.

"I dunno, something new. Something... red." Red? Where the fuck had that come from? Oh, God, those damn fishnets again!

"R-red?" Charles swallowed again, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. His glasses slid down his nose again, and he subconsciously loosened his tie, feeling suddenly... hot.

"Uh... yeah, red." Nathan was about to say he meant red_heads_, but the reaction he had gotten made him wonder. Could he really make this work? His sleep-deprived brain said yes. "I like red." He grinned, feeling his own discomfort fade, replaced by a mischievous sort of determination. "Do you like red?"

"Do... do _I_ like red? Well, I suppose... I don't see how that could help with your, ah, your sleep issue..." Charles let the pen drop from his mouth, clicking on the floor before rolling under his desk. He could feel the lace of the garter belt digging into his skin all of a sudden, deliciously horrid friction that caused a sudden bulge to brush against smooth silk.

"I don't know a lot about you. Maybe we could talk 'till I get sleepy?" Nathan stopped himself from laughing. He leaned forward, his hair falling into a black curtain around his face.

"I suppose, if you wish..." Charles found himself captivated by that mess of ebony hair, long and silky... of, how he had longed to run his fingers through that hair, feel it spill across his chest as he wrapped his stocking-clad legs around the larger man's waist... he dug his nails into his thigh as his erection became almost painful, the silk of the panties cold against hot flesh.

"Alright, cool. So... ever wear something besides those suits?" Nathan's gravelly voice sent shivers up Charles' spine, and Nathan could see it in his suddenly straighter posture.

"Sometimes. I have an, ah, outfit I golf in, and there are my pajamas, and my robe..." He had to push his glasses back up his nose, and could feel his breath hitching in his throat. Charles felt very out of control, so unlike himself.

"What about _under_ the suit? You know, like, boxers or briefs?" Nathan lifted his head a bit, wanting to take in the blush that was creeping up Charles' collar.

"I don't see..." He realized it was better to answer, even if it wasn't honest. "Briefs." He steeled his features in an attempt to mask his rapid breathing. It didn't work.

"Prove it." Nathan smirked wickedly.

"What? No!" Charles scoffed, shocked by the look that he was suddenly getting from the metal front man.

"I'm your boss, and I order you to." Nathan was joking, really, but Charles seemed flustered by that in a way that Nathan had never seen him. He walked up to Charles' desk and leaned over it, hands planted on the cold wood.

"Order me?" It was more to himself than it was a real question. That loss of control became something more. He was under control, but not his own, and he liked it. He _loved_ it. He hated that he loved it, and it just made it that much worse. He scooted his chair closer to the desk to try and hide the tenting in his pants.

"Yeah, order you." Nathan felt like they'd started playing a game, and he walked behind Charles' chair to place a hand on his shoulder. He leaned down to whisper into his manager's ear, and his hair spilled over that dark gray suit jacket. "I order you to pull down your pants." That gruff voice gave Charles goosebumps.

"Or what? What if I refuse?" He turned his face away from Nathan's, not wanting him to see him bite back a lusty groan.

"I could always fire you." _Please let him be playing along, _Nathan thought worriedly, _or I'm gonna have a hell of a time explaining this._

"But, I need this job, ." Charles was surprised at how helpless he could make himself sound without seeming fake. He was a better actor that he thought.

"Then I suggest you do it." Nathan was amazed at how turned on he was at their impromptu role playing. Charles stood, hands shaking, and undid his belt. "Jacket and shirt, too." Nathan grinned, though all he could see from his angle was Charles' back. He wouldn't force him to turn around. He didn't want to scare him off.

"As you wish, ." Charles pulled his jacket off and hung it over his chair, then moved to pull his loosened tie over his head. He was stopped.

"Leave it on." Nathan's deep command made Charles gasp. He nodded his head, then unbuttoned and removed his undershirt. Hes hands moved to the button of his pants, but he hesitated. He hadn't had someone see him in his... his _secret_ since his last girlfriend caught him in her thong, back in eleventh grade. She had called him a fag and left him, and he had had to bride her to keep it a secret. He had switched to being entirely gay that day, taking it as a sign. He had no idea how Nathan would react, but when he felt that broad chest press against his back and a large hand plant itself on his waist he figured, _what the hell? What's the worse that could happen?_ So he continued, pulling his zipper down slowly, tortuously, until he could see the colorful fabric hidden beneath. He turned to face Nathan, letting his pants fall to his ankles.

"What do you think, ?" He put a hand on his hip and smirked. His sleek muscular body actually wore the garments well, and the tight panties did nothing to hide his rather sizable erection.

"Woah..." Nathan was awe-struck for a moment. He quickly regained his composure, though, and pulled Charles closer by his tie. "God, you're such a slut." His head lowered, his lips just inches from Charles', he could see those deep, lustful eyes up close for the first time.

"Mmm... God, yes." Charles bit his lip, letting his glasses slide down this time. "I'm such a harlet, I need to be punished." He placed a hand on Nathan's chest, kicking his shoes off so he could step out of his pants.

"Brutal." He grabbed Charles' waist and lifted him up onto the edge of his desk with ease, tugging his legs apart and brushing himself against his captive employee's ass. Charles tore Nathan's pants open and tugged then down so that they fell to the floor, showing that the front man wasn't wearing underwear. He pulled Nathan closer and kissed him, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Nathan pressed his palm against Charles' cock, and Charles bucked slightly. Nathan had never been with a guy before, but he figured it couldn't be that much different. Charles seemed to know just what was on his mind, as he always did, and he wrapped his arms around Nathan's neck.

"Just take it slow, I trust you." Charles' voice was steady and sure, and his eyes stayed locked with Nathan's. Nathan just nodded his head and pressed closer, his hair hanging in long curtains, brushing across Charles' chest. He felt fingers threading through those silky, jet black locks, and he smiled. Charles trusted him, and that was new for Nathan. Not many people trusted him. So when he put his index finger in his mouth to coat it with saliva, and worked those silk panties to the side to press it against Charles' entrance, he felt nervous.

"Tell me if you, uh... you know, want me to..." He hated how his voice shook, like it was his first time.

"I'll let you know if it hurts." Charles was no novice at this, to say the least. He didn't have many partners, but he wasn't so prudent as to never masturbate. He even had toys.

"Okay..." Nathan carried on, pushing the tip of his finger into Charles' tight hole, almost drawing back again when the brunette bit his lip and let out a hiss.

"No, no, keep going. Mmmfuck, you have big fingers." Charles mumbled the last bit, half to himself. And so Nathan carried on, moving his finger in and out, slowly, until Charles was squirming. "More. One more." His words came out in huffs, and when Nathan added a second finger, it sent him into spasms, a cry escaping his lips. "Right there! Right there! Godfuckyes!" He wrapped his legs around Nathan's hips, tossing his head back slightly.

"You like that, huh? You're such a hot little skank, aren't you?" Nathan's voice sent vibrations through Charles' chest. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into the soft, bared flesh of Charles' throat, biting down until he could taste blood, and at the same time replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. He hadn't meant to draw blood, but he had always been a biter.

"Harder! God, yes, take me!" The fingers that had been entwined so gently with Nathan's hair now clenched, forcing his mouth impossibly closer to the sensitive skin of Charles' throat, and the legs around his waist pulled him closer, deeper into the tight warmth. It was the most amazing thing Nathan had ever experienced. He let himself lose control, pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in to the hilt. He pounded into him hard, fast, setting a relentless rhythm that was so... metal. Nathan pulled his mouth away from the now deep wound he had made to kiss him, their tongues dancing about in a battle for dominance. Charles dug his well-manicured nails into Nathan's back, clawing in desperation as a string of moans, purrs, and snarls escaped between the singer's fevered kisses. It was heaven, it was hell, it was all so much, so fast, and Charles wanted it to never end. But it had to eventually, and he could feel the hot, tingling sensations building in the pit of his stomach.

"Fuck, m'close..." Nathan grunted out, arms shooting out to pull Charles into a tight embrace. In a few more thrusts, he was shuddering with the force of his orgasm, followed closely by Charles' own release. He fell back, and Nathan slumped forward onto his chest, both clinging to the other in tired bliss.

"That... that was amazing." Charles panted out after a fwe moments, eyes threatening to close.

"Totally... metal to... fuck your manager." Nathan grinned, struggling to stand up. He fell back into the plush office chair, watching as Charles got dressed. He couldn't help his eyes being drawn to the perfect, silk-clad ass that was presented to him as Charles bent over to pick up his pants.

"Come on. Let's, ah, get you to bed." Charles pulled Nathan to his feet and let the taller man lean against him. Neither man had ever slept as soundly as they did that night, and Nathan definitely planned on doing it again. Soon.


End file.
